Tell Me A Story
by InaLndofMyth
Summary: A dark, AU One Shot when Percabeth is in Tartarus


Percy had to hold back the vomiting urge in his stomach as he held his girlfriend's hair and rubbed soothing circle on her back. It wouldn't do them any good if they both started retching. Annabeth gaged again, this time blood and spit emerged and landed into a puddle of bile and Ambrosia squares. She sat up, gasping and shaking, and leaned against the pile of rocks they made camp behind. Sweat trickled down her face and her cheeks were flushed.

"Tell me a story," she rasped. Percy willed a damp rag cold and dabbed her burning forehead.

Tell me a story. Since their decent into Tartarus, Percy and Annabeth feared they would begin to loose their minds upon the horrors and nightmarish atrocities the pit hosted. Annabeth awoke one day, petrified because she couldn't remember the taste of cooked carrots. Granted, she had never really enjoyed her vegetables (only choking them down them out of the practical knowledge of the human's essential need of nourishment) but it wasn't the lack of carrots that terrified her: It was the inevitably, irrevocable fact that during her time spent in Tartarus, she was beginning to forget life elsewhere.

She was beginning to forget the feeling of the sun's warm rays upon her skin; the smell of fresh air or the fragrance of flowers. Annabeth didn't know if her memory loss was the result of dehydration, starvation, untreated medical issues or a mix of stress and anxiety, but it horrified her all the same. The only thought that kept her going was the possibility of escaping this hellhole to see her friends and her family; to pay a visit to Camp Half Blood, Chiron, and maybe even her Dad.

But above all: she hoped for a future with Percy. Annabeth didn't need marriage, a ring, or anything ridicules that secured their relationship. Falling into Tartarus was enough proof of Percy's feelings and dedication to her. Getting out alive, with him, was the only thing she could ever ask for. But in order to do so, both her and Percy needed to be sane when they escaped, and they needed to remember something besides the pit.

And so, Percy and Annabeth began a game: "Tell Me A Story". One would have to supply the other with old memories or long-forgotten tales that popped into their heads whenever those words were said. The only rule was that the given answer had to be of one that related to their time before Tartarus. Otherwise, it would not be a memory game and completely impracticable.

"Please," Annabeth whispered after a few beats of silence. Percy feared he had shared everything he possibly could with her already. But he complied when taking in the image of his sick, shivering and sweating girlfriend.

"There was a kid," Percy began. "Who... who hated weekends. Pretty impossible, but that one did. Sometimes he slept at school so could avoid them—but they usually crept up on him nevertheless. He couldn't seem to understand that weekends were unavoidable. They were always there. At the end of the week. Waiting."

Percy paused as Annabeth moaned softly. He guided her head onto his lap, mindful of her pelvis. Menstruating had always undoubtedly been difficult for demi-goddesses (add bleeding onto hours of training, fleeing or fighting for your life) but extremely hard for Annabeth in particular. She would be plagued with horrible cramps; the blood never seemed to stop and she'd transition from freezing to the sweating in a matter of seconds.

Being in Tartarus didn't help her one bit. The pit (that was literally hell) was a living cell, in a sense, and living cells need fuel. Tartarus's appetite was unsatisfactory; it just took and took and took and took, slowly draining the life from its inhabitants. Those already weak and vulnerable suffered greater and they didn't stand a chance.

Percy cleared his throat and stroked Annabeth's head. "Other times he even thought about running away. He tried. Once. In half a day he gave up... and there they were again. The kid eventually grew up and began to like weekends. He saw how he could have fun; how he could make the best of them. Weekends soon became his favorite days of the week. The end."

Percy couldn't tell what Annabeth was thinking. Her features were composed and stoic, a mirror of his, which irked him to no end.

"That's nice," she whispered flatly. "But how does that even relate to your—" a coughing and wheezing fit seized her words and threw them away. Percy roughly patted her back and passed her the dwindling supply of water.

"Thanks," she gasped after a few sips and pushed his arm away. She looked at him expectantly.

Percy avoided her eyes as he set their canteen down. It was depressingly light, he estimated a fourth of it was left. They needed to get clean water. Quickly, and soon. Oh, how he desperately wished to have the power to conjure water.

"Perc—"

"Card games were always on Saturdays."

Annabeth frowned. Sometimes, Percy thought, it really sucked to have a highly intelligent and brilliant girlfriend, who has known you for five years. It meant he was pretty much an open book to her. She could read him as easily as he could her (usually) and it meant they both understood the subtle hints or indirectness that the other might wished have gone unnoticed.

"Percy, listen—" she began, but Percy got his words out faster.

"He's gone. Dead. Turned to stone. It's over now. Remember our first quest?" Percy smiled sadly as he reflected.

Annabeth nodded wistfully. She remembered everything, from the first time she met him to Greyhound exploding, Grover and the poodle, the Lotus Hotel and the Underworld. Annabeth had thought they had had it bad, then. No food, money, adult supervision or map. But at least they had the sun and stars. "Remember Medusa? I thought you were crazy, pulling an act like that on the gods."

Percy chuckled bitterly and held Annabeth closer. It was, after all, the gods' fault that they were in Tartarus. "Mom used Medusa's head on Gabe."

Annabeth couldn't contain the laugh that emerged from her lips. She could imagine Sally doing something like that. Her laugh was bright, loud, and pure. Laughter followed laughter, it was as if someone had tipped a chalice of Nectar and it flowed from the cup. Annabeth laughed so hard and it felt so good but then her chest began to ache she started to cough.

Percy propped her head up until she was finished hacking. Then he shifted and forced her to close her eyes.

"You're sick."

"But—" He had already taken three of her shifts for watch. Annabeth didn't know when he had last slept. If he kept stringing himself out for her, then he would be the next one ill and they'd be at square one again.

"No buts. Sleep. Now. I'll wake you if there's trouble." Percy's tone was firm and there was no room for argument.

Annabeth huffed and rolled on her side. Percy's legs weren't the most comfortable surface her head had ever known but she wasn't complaining, considering her pillow had been a rock a few minutes ago.

"Love you," she mumbled.

"Love you too..." Percy watched, a man in a trance, as his girlfriend began to drift off to sleep. Despite having not washed in a week or ate in three days, Annabeth was still beautiful in his eyes.

"Remind me to tell you my story," she said before surrendering to darkness's clutches.

Percy smiled. He smoothed back her hair and kissed her forehead. He listened to her heart beat for a few seconds. It was soothing. Percy made a mental note to remind her of her request, just as sleep took hold.

Annabeth Chase never did tell him her story, for Percy Jackson never woke up.

Nico Di Angelo jolted upright, suddenly, as he felt a rippling sensation pass through the Hades cabin. "What is it?" Will Solace murmured sleepily from beneath a pillow.

Nico just shook his head, his mouth too dry to speak. He threw black sweatpants on as he fumbled around for a Drachma. He could only feel pain and pain and more agonizing pain—that wasn't his—as he tried to find a dam coin.

Nico couldn't remember much after that. Somehow a Drachma appeared in his hand. Maybe Will had supplied it. And somehow Nico created an Iris Message. In his cabin. He didn't recall if his father had seen Will (who had slept over, there was no denying it) or if Will had left before the IM began. But Nico clearly remembered Hades grimly confirming his fear.

So Nico was right. He had felt Percy's soul depart from its body, and shortly Annabeth's followed. It was a horrible way to go; Nico had felt talons and claws and teeth sink into flesh and bone and tissue. Percy hadn't even been fully conscious before he was dead. It was either a blessing or a curse.

Annabeth, on the other hand, was wide awake. She witnessed her boyfriend's demise. She could do nothing but sit, paralyzed, as her worst fear imagined played out in front of her. She must've of been in shock; for there was no struggle from her as the monster swooped in, tearing at her skin and hair and body until there was nothing left but an empty, unrecognizable shell of who she was.

Nico hadn't the faintest clue as to how to break the news to the Seven, minus two. Percy was his first crush, but so much more. Percy was the first person to introduce him to the demigod world. Percy was familiarity, safety, something as close as Nico could call friend. Percy was a good guy. He was a great boyfriend and a sweet son. He was protective, loyal, caring, brave. He didn't deserve his fate.

And Annabeth. Nico wanted to hate her for holding Percy's heart and for technically being the ultimate cause of Bianca's death. After all, of not for her, the entire rescue mission would never had happened. But he couldn't bring himself to do that. Annabeth was kind and understanding. She was smart (a genius), compassionate, supportive, and determined. Nico admired her greatly and was proud to have known her. She didn't deserve dying in a pit of hell.

Neither of them did. They were the greatest heroes of their time. They were to be remembered, celebrated and appreciated. Not forgotten and dead in some dark pit, only known as the couple who had fallen to Tartarus because of petty pride and ignorant loyalty.

What happened to their actual bodies, Nico did not know. He could only keep himself from imagining the faceless corpses as a snack for a monster. The very thought made him want to hurl. Gods, Nico hoped they made it to Elysian. If anyone deserved paradise, it was them.

Nico spent the day holed up in his cabin. Will visited him multiple times and forced him to eat and blow his nose. Will's Medic Scrubs were soaked with tears by the end of the day and both boys were emotionally exhausted.

Breaking the news to the Seven was horrible—tears silently dripped down Hazel and Frank's cheeks; Jason's eyes were deep orbs of sadness; Piper's face crumbled with muffled sobs; and Leo stood in shock. Then he grabbed his belt and ran for the woods.

Clarisse, who just so happened to overhear Nico, chose to be angry and spent the entire day in the Arena, screaming at the straw dummies about "betrayal", "leaving me too", "Silena, now you" and "how I don't care that you're gone, never missed you in the first place".

Chiron... Chiron was speechless. He was so certain from the very beginning that the two would make it out alive. Why wouldn't they? They were Percy and Annabeth. Annabeth and Percy. The first Son of Poseidon in decades and the only Daughter of Athena to have retrieved the Athena Parthenos.

The camp didn't hear from Chiron for five days. For five days he didn't leave the Big House. Five days didn't even begin to measure up to the five years of training Percy or the sixteen years of practically raising Annabeth. He had lost two heroes. This wasn't news to him. Children died every day. Horribly. Painfully. Unspeakably. But Percy and Annabeth were so much more than nameless halfblood children. They were family. Family that Chiron didn't plan on loosing for a long time.

Tyson refused to believe Nico, going on and on about how Percy was strong and Annabeth was too and they couldn't be gone because they were them and—and—and—until he resulted to a sobbing mess, finally forced to face the fact that his brother was gone gone gone. He spent his time in the waters of Long Island and Cabin 3. Tyson begged Nico to try to contact Percy, but no matter how many Happy Meals or Blue Food they sacrificed, Percy wouldn't be reached.

Frederick cried upon hearing the news. He couldn't eat for two weeks. He forbade anyone to touch Annabeth's things. He was far from the perfect father, but he did love his little girl.

Sally didn't utter a single word when receiving the news. How could she—what would she have to say? Words couldn't describe a mother's loss. She wasn't supposed to see her baby die. Percy was going to live a long life. She was supposed to see him graduate, go to collage, marry, and create his own family... Even Paul couldn't get her to speak. Nico didn't know what happened to Sally, but the last he saw of her was her blank eyes, graying hair and trembling figure as she silently stared at a photo of Percy and Annabeth.

For two months the seas raged. Tsunamis, hurricanes, earthquakes and flooding plaques the earth. Only a few people truly understood why. And Athena felt the guiltiest of them all, for it was her stature and her coin and quest and her orders and her daughter and and and. They didn't hear much from the Wisdom Goddess.

It was decades later when Nico's time on earth was finally through. His father offered him a room in the palace, but Nico preferred to be with his husband. Seeing Will again took his breath away. After Will came Hazel and Frank, then Piper and Jason and finally Leo and Calypso. Nico laughed and cried and rejoiced with each person. Every hero welcomed him home.

All but two.

It would be a day later when Nico was finally informed of this: Percy and Annabeth weren't in Elysian. They never made it to the Underworld. They were never judged, never even given a chance at paradise. No Demigod had ever survived Tartarus—but him. And no Demigod had ever died in Tartarus—but them. Their souls never had the chance to visit the regular world again; Tartarus consumed them and they were destroyed.

This time—this time Nico couldn't hold himself back from hurling.


End file.
